


Never The Same

by jattendrai (orphan_account)



Category: Nuclear Throne (Video Game)
Genre: Death, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4867991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jattendrai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But she wasn’t after the Throne, that’s not why she came -- she came for an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never The Same

**Author's Note:**

> i hope people dont assume when i write Nuclear Throne fanfiction that it's romantic b/c im never doing that in my entire life
> 
> anyways enjoy this which i didnt proofread yet again

**Then it can all go back to normal.**

 

It wasn’t usual but certainly not uncommon for a mutant to accompany others in the stretch for the Throne -- if you could even call it that; the unprepared running into the vast wasteland that was glittered in portals, tossing them one way to the next, hopefully pushing them closer to the thing they’ve only heard stories about.

Rebel seemed to be eager to accompany Rogue on her journey early in the morning, when the fire was dying down but the sun was streaking its rays over the dust of the land, right when everybody had found some state of peace that they excused for sleep. Rogue had gathered her very little things when Rebel pulled on her sleeve, looking up at her with her many little allies staring through the slips of her backpack. They could not understand each other’s language, but they could understand the simple wish of wanting to fight. It’s all they knew of, anyways.

It was easier to summon the portal when two were to go, especially early in the morning when all were asleep, so that their death was quiet and easycoming for them both. Remorse will drag on the heels of Rogue later, but Rebel showed only determination as she killed her comrades. They wouldn’t return to the campfire.

The portal had opened soon after they shot their final comrade, and were sucked into it quicker then Rogue could process, her mind was a whirling mess as strips of purple and shots of white blurred her view, twisting her this way and that as all her synapses fired through her head, and soon enough they were thrown on stable ground, Rebel making an easy recovery but Rogue still awaiting for her consciousness to make it to her body.

The fighting came easy for both of them, though they had very little recollection of ever doing much. The only problem they came upon was the constant high-tailing of the I.D.P.D as they came in through streaks of blue, but Rebel often ordered her allies to take them out, one by one like lights on a string each blinking out of existence. They didn’t work together but they certainly weren’t on there own; it was a mutual fight but they fought for themselves.

Portal, fight, portal, fight, I.D.P.D sirens racking through Rogue’s skull as another one of Rebel’s allies collapses to the dust, forgetting it ever existed, only for more to come out of her bag as they picked up ammo and medkits and canisters of the radiation they yearned so much for. Strike, Strike, Strike, blue smoke filling up Rogue’s eyesight and glittering the explosions as one-by-one the enemies died -- It was repetitious with every portal, like bad clockwork, their lives swinging on a pendulum.

**  
  
**

And then they came upon it, the place that Rogue’s journey would end at; the Frozen City.

She wasn’t after the Throne. She couldn’t tell the others, but in the very back of her, somewhere in the memories that seem to reach out yet unable to be grabbed, there was something about the Throne back there; something that made her stay away from it. She knew the mutants wanted the Throne and she never picked up why; it seemed like they didn’t even know themselves.

But she wasn’t after the Throne, that’s not why she came.

She came for an old friend.

The Frozen City was a death wish; covered in slick ice that they balanced so carefully on, scraps of forgotten pasts jutting out and unearthing things such as cars, lamp posts, and indescribable relics. Hefting through the thin corridors, they fought the robots at every corner, sliding, sliding, shooting, falling; the reflections of the ice were like mimicry, of another world so much like theirs, but with a more omniscient feeling. Rogue kept her eyes away from the ice.

Finally it seemed that all live had been killed off, not even a single drop of blood smeared onto the perfect mirror under their feet, bullets lining walls along with empty canisters and scraps of what used to be the faithful Rebel’s allies.

Oddly enough, little I.D.P.D grunts have been following them through, most of them easy targets that the allies handled and killed off within picoseconds; in fact, everything seemed a bit weary around them both, even the big hulking monstrosities had seem a bit retained.

Rogue looked down at Rebel, who was quickly counting her allies left and looking through dropped weapons before the portal was to open. Rogue’s Portal Strike, a very dearly-kept weapon she had, did seem out of charge, maybe there were some hidden canisters left somewhere in the snow --

It was all like clockwork. A matter of time. A simple cackle that shook the pendulum.

Rebel immediately deployed three allies before the target had even been spotted, Rogue searching aimlessly in the sky for the little speck. Her finger moved away from the trigger, and as Rebel’s eyes looked one way she moved the other, slowly pacing herself backwards and behind the allies; it was time for Rogue to go beyond her feelings, her strange empathy for living beings, and use the allies to her advantage. It was the only reason why she felt compelled to let Rebel come with her.

Her allies were good distractions.

Something exploded behind them. Turn, strike, strike, ally after ally shooting and dodging as the mania-filled being hopped and bursted the same blue streaks that Rogue found beauty in; but they weren’t beautiful now, they were her camouflage. Rebel attacked, click, click, click, the noise draining out the sound as Rogue charged her strike and shot random in the blue, the dead allies sliding across the ice and leaving nothing behind.

Something streaked across her sight and she could see the glow of green radiation, the little red eyes staring at her and at nothing. Rebel was charging her way, more allies spawning from the pack, and one by one Rogue took them out without her noticing, making sure to stay close near the cackling that clawed in her chest -- Click, Bang, Click, Bang, one by one the allies fell and finally, with her grip tight on her Striker but not on the trigger, she charged with Rebel out of the smoking blue, and there the being streaked across the sun.

Lil’ Hunter.

Rogue realized her plan had flawed; neither of them could escape alive. She had intended to let Rebel go on to the Throne, but it was clear now that there wasn’t a way to stop her from murdering the enemy. She would never see eye-to-eye with her, to let something live, for the person she once thought of as a distant ally was nothing more than a mutated killing machine. Whether it lacked feelings or not, she didn’t care, she knew she won’t feel remorse killing Rebel.

Lil’ Hunter slammed down on the ground closest to Rebel, knocking her back in a thick fog of blue as it streaked in lightning, like a storm so beautiful and chaotic. She only had so much time left, and she yanked at the muzzle from her mouth and called out to Lil’ Hunter. Her voice was hoarse after only so much silence and nothing to drink, it came out as more of a shriek, a cry almost, and the cackling flushed it all out as he charged at her.

She threw herself against the bank of the snow as the ice underneath them cracked, the swishing noise of his radiation pack sickening her. The snow felt like nothing, nothing against her, not cold nor warm or soft or rough, it was just nothing. Nothing felt like everything to her and she dared to not look him in the face as she charged, not to him but past him, through the streaks of blue that smelt like gunpowder and smoke, and through it all she charged her Strike at the only other target in the field; Rebel.

Was this sensation the same one Rebel felt when she had killed her allies back at camp? Was this what it felt like to not feel human, to feel like something beyond all others, worthy of the best? It sickened Rogue to her stomach but she had nothing to throw up, she had no tears to shed and no voice to cry out in, just the feeling deep within her chest that mimicked the throwing of the portals, the feeling of being there and being gone at the same time.

All that was left was what she came for; Lil’ Hunter.

But it was prominent that who she was looking that was not him, not the one she had come for; Rogue came here for her partner, her friend, the one person from her time as the one in blue, where she fought against the same mutants she had put her trust in.

Had they both lost it? Or was it just Rogue? Trusting the people she had fought against, thinking that maybe they were something, that they felt something. Maybe Lil’ Hunter was laughing at her, knowing how stupid it was for her to join the enemies, as if they were anything other than killers. She was the one that lost it, she had created fake images of what the future would hold and she fell for all of it, dropping from the reality of things like the flakes of snow on the ice.

Her reflection stared back at her, and if she could cry she would. But she couldn’t.

There was one cannister left. One portal strike shot.

Two of them. Four strikes in one hit. One cannister.

Then it would all be over.

Then it can all go back to normal.


End file.
